The Things I Heard in the Woods


The Things I Heard in the Woods
Life in Appalachia has its mysteries.

I live in Appalachia—where the forests are deep, older than time itself, and dense with lore. Myths like the Mothman, the cryptids, and the moon-faced people linger in the shadows, whispered from one generation to the next. Most of these stories exist, I think, to keep folks respectful of the dark.

As for me? I'm an inside-at-night sort of gal. Not because of ghosts—because of bugs. I like to see the buzzy thing coming at me so I can duck.

Still, this time of year we keep the windows open. Last night, just as I was getting ready for bed, something made me stop cold. A sound drifted down from the tall poplars at the edge of our yard:

Who-who-wh-wh-whooo?

Alright, fine. Our resident barred owl. Nothing unusual. But then—out of nowhere—came a blood-chilling cackle. A laugh.

Holy hoots, Batman. Had macaques taken over Appalachia?

I kept listening, hoping for something normal to follow. Instead, the calls got weirder, echoing through the trees in a back-and-forth that did nothing to settle my nerves.

Being the intrepid mountain woman I am, I did what any seasoned local would do in the face of potential chaos: I closed the window and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over my head.

This morning, I pulled up my trusty ChatGPT and described the nighttime horrors I'd witnessed. The verdict? A tentative ID of an agitated barred owl, possibly in a shouting match over territory—or love. They even sent me a YouTube link to verify it.

👉Caterwalling Barred Owls

Once again, I’m reminded: you’re never too old to learn something new.

And thankfully, no monkeys have invaded. Because honestly? Enough fecal matter flies around here as it is.


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